


Liberation

by WitheringFeniks



Series: Bo Stin [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alduin is a low key troll, Alduin lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin Dragonborn, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Brother-Sister Relationships, Childhood Trauma, Cover Art, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Dawnguard DLC, Developing Relationship, Dragonborn DLC (Elder Scrolls), F/M, Feral Behavior, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hearthfire DLC (Elder Scrolls), Height Differences, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Health Issues, Miraak Lives (Elder Scrolls), Protectiveness, Raven Rock (Elder Scrolls), Redemption, SHapeshifting Dragons, Sithis - Freeform, Skaal (Elder Scrolls), Sleep Deprivation, Solstheim (Elder Scrolls), Soulmates, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, apocrypha, dragon instincts, he just gets grounded, introvert Dragonborn, minor original dragon characters, nordic/brenton dragonborn, quiet dragonborn, she'll talk on her own goddam terms Miraak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitheringFeniks/pseuds/WitheringFeniks
Summary: …Come……Solstheim……Find……Waiting…...Siiv zu'u, roh...Plagued by dreams of a man with a golden mask, Greysi travels to Solstheim despite the warnings from her brethren about Miraak. However when finally face to face with the man, she is unable to deny the pull to the only other being alive that understands what exactly it means to be dovahkiin.Excerpt:He was not expecting to see her again for a short while—and only to steal her next soul—but here she was,sleeping. Without a care in the world. In Apocrypha. Where she could be discovered by a Seeker or Lurker.He didn’t know if she was reckless or just that confident in her skill if she was taken by surprise…What a strange woman.
Relationships: Alduin & Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Paarthurnax, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Miraak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, dragonborn & Durnehviir, dragonborn & odahviing
Series: Bo Stin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820761
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100





	1. Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for a while and finally posted it. It will be worked on between a few of my other stories.
> 
> There are some obvious changes to the game, such as Alduin not dying. There are not many details about the final fight but there are references as to what happened. Hopefully, they seem real enough. At this point, its been several months and so Greysi and Alduin have had a chance to bond. So, again, hopefully I've created something of a realistic relationship between my OC and the dragons.
> 
> Dragonborns have the ability to make a large range of noise, such as more dragon-like snarls or even something akin to purring. I mostly wanted to explore that and how having a soul of a dragon is more complicated than the game really explored.  
> ~~
> 
> Dovahzul doesn't match up to English completely, so finding the right words meant I had to put a similar meaning one, e.i: trouble -> rage.
> 
> For the hover text, I will put the translation I meant, but will expand upon translations at the bottom for phone readers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this story includes references to child abuse, torture, and rape/non-con. While there will be none in this story, it will be spoken about.
> 
> [Edited: 29/6/2020]

* * *

_**Chapter 1:** Dreams..._

.

.

.

**G** reysi crouched on top of the observation tower, hands clutching the spike at the tip of the roof. The height brought her that much closer to the free sky, brought her closer to a freedom she’d never able to experience of her own accord.

As the cool wind that blew across the lake, ripping water and rustling trees also brushed past her; it allowed her to imagine.

Imagine the feeling of spreading her own wings and the wind beneath them.

Imagine that she was not trapped in the wrong body, cursed to walk and never fly of her own free will.

Greysi would not deny that she was envious of her fellow dovah.

But that was not why she was up here, her exhausted mind continued to flash her images of her dream. A recurring one that began obscure and unintelligible but the nights she actually slept, they grew clear.

_…Come…_

_…Solstheim…_

_…Find…_

_…Waiting…_

_...Siiv zu'u, roh... _

Flashes of a golden mask, the figure of a large man consumed by dark tendrils that sway and whipped like they had a mind of their own was what Greysi jolted awake from hours prior.

So many hours that the moon had long since begun its descent and the sun was illuminating the land once more.

Whoever this man was, he was trying to draw her somewhere—Solstheim, if she could recall correctly.

She had heard of it, distantly, but never anything of importance was included in the discussion.

(She heard a lot of things with her chosen lifestyle; gossip and confidential information. Secrets that would ruin people, secrets that would disgrace even the most loved and prominent of people.)

But—there was something about this man; it was as if her soul was reacting to this calling. Her dovah, the first time she had the dream, hadn’t settled for hours afterwards. But every dream since… it was as if her soul was trying to call out to _answer_.

Greysi was pulled from her musing at the muffled voices inside, the distinct voice of Alduin being awoken by Durnehviir’s occasional loud snore.

Alduin cursing at Durnehviir had become somewhat of a morning ritual.

It brought a smile to her face.

Her scarred back itched as a flock of birds flew overhead.

Greysi had many scars, some put there by others, some of her own making. Her own were of a worse state then others, the almost V shape of scratches from her nails were the worst. She had mutilated herself when she was a child; when she had no idea why it felt like she was missing something when she felt like she was in the wrong body—when all she could do to relieve it was scratch and scratch.

She heard the door open and close, the movement of feet on dirt and the sound of one of her brothers returning to their true form.

A black scaled head appeared in the corner of her peripheral. Greysi twisted her head to meet Alduin’s red gaze.

“Fin hahnu?”

Greysi nodded mutely.

Alduin gave a quiet murmur of acknowledge and sighed deeply. “Let us fly.” He offered his head and she climbed on, laying on her front, arms curling around his horns. His warmth easily seeped into her being, the hours outside had left Greysi chilled and so the heat left her relaxing.

The gush of wind of a take-off and they were in the air. Greysi imagined stretching her non-existent wings and smiled, which turned sleepy as she was lulled to sleep.

.

.

.

Paarthurnax was there when Alduin returned with his sleeping cargo, the white-haired humanoid’s face creased into concern.

Alduin walked forward, being careful not the jostle Greysi as he lowered his head enough for his brother to take her from him.

Paarthurnax quipped. “Ahrk ful hi tinvaak hi dreh ni aaz fah ek, zeymah.”

Alduin just huffed out a cloud of smoke at him before shifting back down. He grimaced, he had hated it at first—still did, but not nearly as much—that he was forced to walk among the joor and learn just what they did to survive.

Damn his Father.

Besides that fact, he was forced to spend most of the time in the shape of a joor, and only limited time in his true form, his powers had been subdued too…

His brethren had been given the ability to shift also, but none had been bound like him. So at least he did not have to suffer knowing he was the only one to walk among the joors as Paarthurnax, Odahviing, and Durnehviir had come together to quote-unquote watch over him, but he knew it was just an excuse to watch over the mal dovahkiin instead.

(Durnehviir had been a complete surprise, he had vanished one day never to return—there had been no clues of what had happened to him. But the fool had been meddling in things above him. He’d sighed, all three of them had sighed in fact, as Durnehviir told them exactly what had happened to him.

Greysi had sat and listened with quite the interested ear, she’d known loosely of how her brethren had gotten stuck but not heard the full tale.)

Alduin wondered if he would one day regain more of his strength to at least bring more of their kind back—Laasdrampaar would be one of the first, her compassion and drive to protect her fellow bearers had made her one not to trifle with. He had trusted her greatly, and her death at joor hands had enraged him.

He followed Paarthurnax inside, Odahviing’s bright red hair snatched his attention immediately, his ruffled appearance next.

“What happened?”

He was goddamned _shushed_. He waited until Paarthurnax had moved upstairs to put Greysi in her bed of furs before asking again.

“What happened to you?”

Odahviing sighed. “The Blades. I was travelling back when they attacked. Got me completely by surprise, they had been clearly waiting.”

“The blonde joor?"

“Was there.”

Durnehviir gave a rumble in muted anger. “They do not understand the consequences of what exactly they are getting into. It’s like they wish to start an all-out war with us. They only live because of Greysi’s aaz.”

Alduin cocked a brow—Greysi’s mercy? She was as feral as one could get; she bore no trouble killing someone if it suited her needs. She was an _assassin_. She had little compassion for most beings.

Odahviing waved Durnehviir off. “What of our  briinah?  She looks like she hadn’t slept in days.”

“That’s because she hasn’t.” Alduin scowled. “She can’t sleep for more than a few hours before her strange dream awakens her.”

“It’s bizarre.” Durnehviir chimed in. “We tried burning lavender, even using our thu’um but nothing works.”

Odahviing blinked in confusion. “Why not just ask her what the dream is about?”

“She won’t tell us.” Paarthurnax answered as he quietly moved down the stairs to join them. “Greysi is quite determined to keep whatever it is she’s seeing to herself.”

“Golah.”

“Rek los.”

The pattering of paws and Greysi’s overly fluffy feline companion Ellie appeared. She sat in the doorframe of the room for a moment, watching them with intelligent green eyes. Then she meowed quietly and leapt onto Alduin’s lap, she trilled up at him and he ran his hand along her back. She settled there.

“Can we go back to the Blades now?” Paarthurnax asked, a worried crease of his brows present. “I would like to discuss what exactly we should do about our growing problem with them.”

Alduin ground his jaw back and forth. “Mu nis dreh pogass. They would likely use any retaliation against us. We have proven we don’t mean harm since—”

“—Since our  briinah kicked your ass?” Durnehviir grinned.

Paarthurnax sighed and Odahviing huffed in amusement.

“Yes.” Alduin drawled, finding no humour where the zii and fo dovah did. “The Blades are going out of their way to try and prove we are still a threat, therefore they will eventually slip up.”

Odahviing smirked. “I like the sound of this plan.”

“Goodness.” Paarthurnax rubbed his brow.

.

.

.

“Greysi.” Paarthurnax approached the lake edge and she turned, brow raised. “I know you don’t wish to, but please known that our ears are open if you are in need.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know,  zeymah. I just don’t know what the make of it all.”

“Perhaps some wisdom from someone as old as I am may be of help.”

She smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling softly. “What do you know of Solstheim?”

Paarthurnax exhaled sharply. “Are you sure that it is Solstheim you wish to know about?”

Greysi frowned at his reaction, worry wiggling in her chest. “Yes, is something wrong?”

“Solstheim.” Paarthurnax echoed once more, his gaze went distant; like he was stuck in the past. He sighed heavily. “Solstheim was ruled over by the first dovahkiin.”

Greysi swallowed. “First?”

“Yes. He was a Dragon Priest,  mir ahrk suleykaar , and when he learnt of what he was, he took  horvutah of Solstheim and kriin us in his desire to rule. Ruthless and efficient; his name was Miraak.”

“Miraak.” Greysi repeat, eyes returning to the water’s surface.

_…Come…_

_…Solstheim…_

_…Find…_

_…Waiting…_

_... Siiv zu'u, roh..._

“There is a man in my dream.” She adds quietly; hesitantly. “He is tall, wears garbs and a mask like the Priests I’ve fought. He even spoke in Dovahzul.”

Paarthurnax squeezes his eyes closed, wishing what Greysi was saying to possibly be was impossible. “We must speak to Alduin and Odahviing, they know more of Miraak.”

.

.

.

“I refuse.”

Greysi stilled. “What?”

Alduin snarled. “You are not stepping foot on Solstheim.”

“I’m an adult, Alduin.”

“I said no.”

“You cannot forbid me like I as some _kiir_ ” She barked back; metaphorical feathers ruffled at the idea that he would dare try and order her as if she was some—

“But I know far more of Miraak then you do!” Alduin bit back. “You have no business dealing with him.”

“Whether or not you like it,  zu’u bo! ”

“Ni! ”

“Geh! ”

“Alduin.” Paarthurnax broke in before his brood-brother could response again. “We cannot demand she stay here. Especially if he is the reason she is suffering. Going to Solstheim may help her resolve her  hahnu .”

“Paarthurnax is right;  ro los fin onik gein. ”

Alduin snarl in Odahviing’s direction. “Hold your tongue.”

“You _do not_ own me, Alduin. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“I was not—” He drew back sharply, akin to being slapped. He knew immediately at what she had meant and did it leave an ache deep in his chest. “That is not what I—”

“It doesn’t matter what your aim was.” Greysi glared. “You use that tone with me again and we going to have a serious problem.”

And then in a whirlwind of movement, she was gone, leaving the door to slam closed behind her.

Paarthurnax sighed and Odahviing watched warily as Alduin turned and threw a chair across the room with a wordless yell of anger.

.

.

.

Almost to the hour later, three of the four dragons met Greysi outside to see her off.

“Please don’t do anything reckless, Greysi.” Paarthurnax pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Summon me if you have any need. Any at all, okay?” Durnehviir offered, worry light in his eyes. “Proximity to any of us help with your sleep, so if you just need me for that then you know I will always be available.”

Greysi melted into his hug and she pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering softly: “I know, zeymah. .”

Odahviing handed her bag back and she slipped it on, thanking him with a kiss to the check also. She eyed their surroundings before sighing.

“He needs time.” Paarthurnax reassures her. “His worry only comes from a place of concern.”

She _knew_ that but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt her, she’d confided in them her secrets, her mental and physical scars. So Alduin trying to order her as if he _had any right too_ —it hurt, deeply. His tone alone had set her off, sleep deprivation and old haunts mixing were not a good thing; it resulted in volatile behaviour.

She was as much at fault as Alduin.

Greysi gave Paarthurnax a weak smile, showing she knew what he meant. Then she swung herself up onto Shadowmere’s back, patting her neck in greeting.

“Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.” She flashes them a grin and Durnehviir chortled, which he got a look from Paarthurnax for.

Greysi shook her head and kicked Shadowmere into a trot, leaning down to murmur her destination. “To Dawnstars’s Sanctuary, my friend.”

Shadowmere pounced into a canter.

.

.

.

Odnir was sprawled across the roof of the Nightcaller Temple just above Dawnstar. She had made the former Vaermina temple her home. Last she’d spoken to Odnir, she and Erandur had become quite good friends.

Greysi was happy to see not everyone feared the dragons, especially now attacks had stopped and Alduin had been subdued.

Surprisingly it had been a lot of Nords that had taken the change the best, but then dovah and Nords had a long and complicated intertwined history. People were still wary, but in actuality, the dragon attacks had been quite a rare thing—most happened when people trespassed on their claimed territory or attacked first.

Of course, there were dovah that went out of their way to attack people and those were the ones Greysi was forced to deal with. The less hostile ones were easier to negotiate with.

(Especially easier when she spoke to them in Dovahzul instead of common. They held far more respect for her when she spoke to them in their mother-tongue. She was glad she took the lessons from Paarthurnax early on, she couldn't not speak it now because of how right it felt.)

Attacks had all but stopped after she had defeated Alduin, and he had ordered for them to not go out of their way to attack joor…

If they were to try and live in somewhat harmony in this era, then compromise was a necessity.

She dismounted Shadowmere and fed her an apple in thanks before entering the sanctuary.

She was still bitter about Astrid, her betrayal still stung deep. The blonde had been like a mother to her; when Astrid had taken her in, she was nothing more than a scared eight-year-old, littered with psychical and mental scars of her torture still so freshly carved upon her.

So knowing Astrid sold them out to the Empire, she deserved her painful death.

Greysi hadn’t even waited for Astrid to finish her words before slitting her throat, watching the woman gargle on her blood.

It wasn’t a quick death, and Astrid deserved every moment of it.

Cicero’s muttering of Astrid challenging the Night Mother’s authority and Astrid asking her to spy on the strange man had an uneasy feeling settling in her too. But to think Astrid had gone so far, that she claimed to worship their Dread Father and yet did not believe of the Night Mother’s role was…. _insulting_.

Sithis was one all of the Brotherhood looked too, worshipped.

He was the reason Greysi had found the Dark Brotherhood in the first place.

That Astrid would insult him in such a way was a worse crime to her than the fact she’d sold them out.

“Greysi!” Babette greeted as the Dragonborn stepped down.

Cicero perked up also, a grin splitting across his face. “The Listener has returned! Cicero hopes in good health?”

Greysi flashed the mad man a smile. “I am.” Then turned back to Babette. “Everything going alright?”

“We’ve got another initiate, Nazir’s taken him under his wing.”

Greysi lingered, catching up with the vampire and mad man before excusing herself. She wished to pray to the Night Mother and Dread Father before she left for Windhelm.

She set up fresh candles and lit them, laying a cluster of Deathbells at the foot of Night Mother’s coffin.

She settled on her knees, fingers linking and palms facing upwards. She took a breath and released it slowly.

_Father, Mother, I seek guidance—_

.

.

.

“If you’re looking for passage to Solsthiem, too bad. I’m not going back there anymore.”

Greysi frowned, irritation forming which she kept from her face. “What happened? Why won’t you go back?”

“Look, it's hard to explain, there’s something going on there, some strange magic. I fear either myself or my crew may fall victim to it next. So I’m not going back to Solstheim."

“I’ll pay you double your usual rate if you take me there.” Greysi bargained. She had the money to spend and if cashing some extra would get her to Solstheim, then she was more than willing to.

Gjalund sighed heavily, eyeing her warily. “Are you sure? I will not be at fault if you fall prey to the strange magic."

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” He stood. “Boys get it together, we’re heading out in thirty.”

Greysi went to step aboard the Northern Maiden when she heard a familiar voice calling her name. “Greysi.”

She turned to Alduin and set her bag on the boat before stepping closer. “Alduin, about before—”

“I came to apologise,  mal gein .” He interrupted, shushing her when she opened her mouth to speak. “My behaviour was inappropriate, especially knowing of your scars and your current ailments. I shouldn’t have been so forceful.”

The dovahkiin stepped closer, arms sliding around his waist, burying her face into his chest. “We both reacted poorly, dii fahdon .”

His arms slipped around her shoulders, practically hiding her head from view with how much large he was in comparison to her. “Zu’u mindok hi lost ruth morah geinmaar.”

Alduin hummed deeply, the sound vibrating his chest and Greysi nuzzled into it. “Please be careful. Miraak is not one to underestimate, hi mindoraan?”

Greysi nodded and pulled back from the hug, pressing a kiss to his jaw in parting. “I will, dii zeymah. ”

She boarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laasdrampaar – life peace ambition (female fire dragon)
> 
> Odnir - Snow hunt (Female frost dragon)
> 
> Translations:
> 
> -Siiv zu'u ronit – find me equal
> 
> -Fin hahnu? - the dream?
> 
> -Ahrk ful hi tinvaak hi dreh ni aaz fah ek, zeymah. - And yet (thus) you say you do not have (mercy) compassion for her, brother.
> 
> -joor – mortal
> 
> -mal dovahkiin – little dragonborn.
> 
> -Briinah – sister
> 
> -Aaz – mercy (compassion)
> 
> -Golah – stubborn
> 
> -Rek los – she is
> 
> -Mu nis dreh pogass - we cannot do much
> 
> -Zii and fo dovah – spirt/soul and frost dragon
> 
> -Zeymah – brother
> 
> -Mir ahrk suleykaar – loyal and powerful
> 
> -Horvutah – captured
> 
> -Kriin – to slay/slaughter
> 
> -Mindok – thought/knowledge
> 
> -Kiir – child
> 
> -zu’u bo – I’m going!--
> 
> -Ni! – no!
> 
> -Geh – yes.
> 
> -Hahnu – dream/s
> 
> -ro los fin onik gein – he is the wise(r) one
> 
> -mal gein – little one--
> 
> -dii fahdon – my friend--
> 
> -Zu’u mindok hi lost ruth morah geinmaar - I know you have rage focus oneself (Lit. I know you have trouble expressing yourself)
> 
> -hi mindoraan? – you understand?
> 
> -dii Zeymah – my brother


	2. BloodSkal Barrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long while but I'm finally back!
> 
> The first chapter had some corrections made, mostly the translations. Why does it have to be so difficult for me????
> 
> I also made changes to the cover, developed Greysi some more :')
> 
> Once again, hover for translations or you can read them at the bottom.
> 
> As an apology for the long wait, there are some doodles at the bottom :)

_**Chapter 2:** BloodSkal Barrow..._

.

.

.

Adril Arano was as helpful as he could get.

So not all that much.

Greysi was still miffed that somehow no one seemed to actually know who Miraak is but felt like the name was familiar all the same. She wouldn’t be all that surprised if magic was involved. The island was not to be trifled with since she could feel the ancient magic beneath her feet. It drew her eyes north east…

It was one of those moments Greysi was thankful for her Breton heritage—it made her more in tune with magic.

And so, Greysi made her way to the strange shrine Adril mentioned on the other side of Raven Rock.

“You there… you don’t seem to be in quite the same state as the others here. Very interesting.”

Greysi turned to the dark elf as he approached. She could see what he meant—the people rebuilding the supposed shrine were in an almost trance-like state, murmuring a mantra under their breath as they worked…

…It unnerved her.

“May I ask what it is you’re doing here?”

“I’m looking for someone named Miraak.”

The Dunmer frowned, tapping his chin curiously. “Miraak… Miraak… It sounds familiar, and yet, I can’t quite place… oh wait, I recall.” His frown deepened. “But that makes very little sense. Miraak’s been dead for thousands of years.”

Greysi pursed her lips from behind her faceguard in annoyance—she already knew this.

“Curious… quite curious. Perhaps it has some relation to what’s going on here. Quite unexpected. I’m afraid I can’t give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak’s towards the centre of the island. If I were you, I’d look there.”

She gave a grateful nod to the Dunmer and turned on her heels. Greysi had the feeling she might be seeing him again.

It was on the way back into the centre of the small village that she noticed a familiar mark on the Blacksmith’s home. She slowed to a stop—now that she thought about it, she might as well commission some bolts for her crossbow. It would be a good way to start a conversation with a member of the Thieves Guild.

The blacksmith perked up at her approach. “Greetings. How many I be of service?”

“I would like to order some crossbow bolts if possible.”

She had always preferred the crossbow to the normal bow. It felt more sturdy and gave her more control….

By the time Greysi was leaving, she’d made a promise to get Glover’s pickaxe back and keep an eye out for a man called Esmond Tyne who’d stolen from him.

Shrugging her backpack to adjust it, Greysi considered her options.

One: head straight for Miraak’s temple

Two: scout the area this Esmond ran off too.

Three: get Glover’s pick back.

Greysi eyed the mine’s entrance. She wasn’t in any _real_ rush was she? Her body had been trained to run off little sleep if necessary and she had managed to nap throughout the journey to Solstheim, so it wasn’t like she was running critically low on energy.

But, on the other hand, she was currently carrying an entire backpack which would slow her down if she started offering herself to help out with people’s problems.

(Which she’ll be getting paid for, it was the main reason she does them in the first place.)

Option three seemed most logical, but… Greysi located the inn—book a room and store her stuff? Did she really trust the innkeeper to not attempt to…? She knew that was just her distrustful nature coming through and sighed, _let’s book a room._

.

.

.

The mine had obviously not been touched in years by the cobwebs, dust, and rotting wood. It was one of those moments her faceguard came in handy.

Minding the low hanging lantern, even for her standards, Greysi slowly approached the arguing couple by the stairs down into the actual mine.

“—last time you explored the mine you almost fell to your death. I’m not spending the rest of my days a widow!”

“And I’m telling you that I’ll do whatever it takes to find my great-grandfather’s remains. He’s down here, I can feel it.”

“That was almost two centuries ago. There may be nothing left to find.”

“Just let me go, woman!”

“Crescius, you’re an obstinate old fool and you’re going to get yourself killed.” His wife stormed out…

…and Crescius turned to her. “Who in the blazes are you?! Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Glover said he wanted his pick returned.” Greysi informed bluntly.

“The damn fool doesn’t even deserve to have it! The pickaxe was made for mining, not selling!” He huffed. “I’ll bet he stole it from the Skaal in the first place.”

Skaal? That’s new.

“It doesn’t belong to you.” Greysi cocked a brow, looking unimpressed—or as unimpressed as she could with half her face hidden.

He sighed and grabs the enchanted pick from atop of a crate. “Oh, very well. Tell him I hope he drops the thing on his foot.”

Greysi took it but paused. “What were you arguing about with your wife? Something about your great-grandfather?”

“These mines hold something that could put Raven Rock back on the map, I just know it!”

She cocked her head to the side curiously, maybe this could get her somewhere. “Go on.”

“A secret the East Empire Company swept under the rug two centuries ago. It killed my great-grandfather, and left Raven Rock with a worthless and tainted mine.”

Now she really was curious. So, armed with the key and letter, Greysi delved into the dark depths of the mine.

…Well, she’d returned the pickaxe first. She really didn’t want to lug that thing around.

.

.

.

The mine eventually led Greysi to what she had thought—ancient Dragon Cult catacombs.

The floor was flooded by half a foot but Greysi paid it little mind. “LAAS YAH NIR.”

She snuck up to all the glowing Draugr and thrust her dragon bone dagger into their chests before any could wake up. Greysi had been doing this for years now, even before she learnt she was Dragonborn. Delving into the crypts had been a fascination and pass time for her, it gave her the opportunity to evolve her skills and facing the Dragon Priests were always a welcome challenge to test herself.

She’d amassed quite the collection of Dragon Priest masks which she displays in her entryway to all that come by. It was both a sign of her prowess against the creatures that most people in Skyrim feared and her curiosity about them.

(The reason the catacombs were always so full of draugr was that people were afraid to fish around the ruins of the Nord’s ancestors, the Atmorans. Just left more fun for Greysi in her opinion.)

Minding the swinging door pressure plate, Greysi pulled her crossbow out to take out the sleeping Draugr sitting on the thrones, then hid in the shadows as the Deathlord came to investigate the sound of her bow. Thankfully, Draugr didn’t retain much in the way of intelligence and with a stealth shot, she killed it also.

She plucked the bolts from their bodies, inspected them before pocketing two, discarding the now useless third.

The circular room had Greysi eyeing the walls to see more thrones. She quietly cast Aura Whisper once more to get an idea of how many, four—five.

She loaded her crossbow, taking out the one she had the clearest sight of then backed away to see if she’d awakened any…

…no sound.

Greysi loaded once more, then took out the one of her left, then backed away.

She’d perfected the art of Draugr wrangling but not even she could predict the amount of noise it would take to wake them up. Thankfully crossbows didn’t seem to cut it—most of the time anyway. However, knowing that she’s almost one hundred percent going to be going catacombs hunting made her ponder the idea of swapping out her crossbow for just a regular one. She had the coin and with her helping Glover out and the friendship between the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild, he was more likely to bargain with her on commissions…

Choices, choices…

.

.

Soul Gem traps were always a nuisance and she had no problem with the love tap like shocks they gave—they felt like nothing to her, someone who’d suffered a lot worse than some measly electric shocks.

.

.

Sniping the Deathlord of the bridge took more focus when the damn target paced back and forth. It was only with the use of TIID KLO UL, did she succeed. It fell from the bridge and splashed into the knee height water.

As Greysi silently cursed her short statue during these moments—her suit was more prone to getting wet because of her lack of height—she took care of the rest of the Draugr. It almost bored her nowadays to go catacomb diving.

She also questioned why there was so many Deathlord Draugr in this tomb…

…was it because of what happened here? Was it the desire of the ones in charge to make sure these were more protected against intruders because of Miraak? Greysi was left with more questions than answers, she wonders if she’d taken a moment to talk to her zeymah that she’d have less.

But, alas, that mattered not anymore. She was already here and if she got genuinely more curious, she could call upon Durnehviir…

…plus she’d get a good cuddle session out of it as well.

…which totally wasn’t a main point of summoning him or anything…

Pushing forward, pocketing a few items as she went along—gems and other knickknacks that would get her money—the spell tome, another Soul Gem trap…the hidden room with random loot…

Greysi was surprised to see the large basalt room with statues and some strange glowing door. She spied the skeleton by the stairs leading up to the door—Gratian Caerellius?

Jumping down the ledges, she approached the skeleton, then up the stairs to see a second— _this_ one was Gratian. The ancient sleep roll was covered in old blood.

Nabbing the journal, Greysi sat on the ledge to flick through it.

_30 Rain's Hand 4E10_

_Received a letter from the East Empire Company today. They say that some of the miners broke through the wall in shaft three of Raven Rock Mine and found some ruins. I hope this isn't another waste of time like that fiasco they sent me to in Cyrodiil. I'll gather my assistant, Millius and sail back to Raven Rock at first light... it'll be nice to see the old house in Solstheim again._

The first page was accompanied by a sketch of a boat.

_7 Second Seed 4E10_

_Finally arrived in Raven Rock and was surprised at the number of dark elf refugees living in town. They aren't really from mining stock, but I think they'll make fine workers one day. Millius and I spent a good part of the day clearing the ash off of the roof of my house. The damn volcano is still erupting almost day and night. If it wasn't for the ash covering everything it would almost look beautiful._

_8 Second Seed 4E10_

_Millius and I are headed into Raven Rock Mine to have look at whatever it is the miners uncovered. I think I'll stop by the old Swing and Scoop and pick up a few supplies before we head down. Couldn't hurt to be prepared._

_9 Second Seed 4E10_

_Looks like the miners broke right through the wall of an old Nordic barrow. I've seen this sort of thing in Skyrim before... damn Nords have barrows dotting the landscape and almost none of them are ever marked on any maps. Looks like this barrow belong to something called the "Bloodskal Clan." I'm going to take some rubbings of the inscriptions on the tombs and see if I can't learn some more information from my history books._

_10 Second Seed 4E10_

_It's been a few days and I can't find even a single mention of this clan anywhere. Millius and I decided to proceed ahead. We've come to a dropdown point, but I can see a massive chamber below. Took the better part of the day to lower everything down and climb down the almost sheer drop._

_11 Second Seed 4E10_

_It's been an astonishing day of discovery! After exploring the large chamber beyond the dropoff, I was startled to find the strangest weapon I've ever laid eyes upon sitting on a pedestal of sorts. The blade appears to be flawless, and is emitting a faint chilling glow. Bits of parchment I found about the chamber seem to call this "The Bloodskal Blade." Not Certain if i should remove it yet, I think I'll sleep on it._

Bloodskal? As in Skaal? Were they connected? More than likely, perhaps the Skaal was a tribe? Greysi knew there was a tribe of people on the other end of the island…

There was a drawing of a sword with red colouring the blade to accompany.

_12 Second Seed 4E10_

_I've decided against my own better judgement to remove the Bloodskal Blade from its pedestal. Millius seems completely against it, but we need to bring this wondrous artifact with us when we find a way out of the barrow._

_13 Second Seed 4E10_

_I should have listened to Millius. The moment the blade was lifted, we were set upon by draugr. Millius fought bravely, but he fell. I was able to destroy the remaining ones, but I was badly wounded. I can barely stand. My only chance would be finding a way out of this place. But I fear that I'm trapped._

_14? Second Seed 4E10_

_Exploring has been slow. I can only move for maybe a few minutes at a time before I have to rest. My supplies are running low, and I'm feeling weaker by the hour. The only progress I've made is finding a strange door with markings on it that I've never seen._

A sketch of the door with red markings like those that had been on the sword.

_There appears to be something to them I'm missing, as they've confounded my attempts at getting through. I'll have to study this further in order to make any progress... barely can keep awake._

A closer sketch of the red marking… Greysi peered over her shoulder to find what exactly the red was meant to signify and spotted a red glow being emitted from the wall…huh.

_I'm fairly certain that the key to the door involves the use of the Bloodskal Blade. When swinging the weapon, I'm noticing a ribbon of mystical energy emanating from it. I think by swinging the sword in different directions, it's possible to manipulate this ribbon and solve whatever puzzle this door presents. I hope to get well enough to put this to the test soon... each swing is a huge effort._

_Last entry_

_I've lost track of time and my strength is fading. I can't even stand anymore. My wounds refuse to heal. I'm afraid this tomb will become my resting place. If anyone finds this journal, please send these notes to my superiors at the East Empire Company and tell my wife that I love her._

_May Arkay guide me to my final rest._

Greysi almost felt sorry for him, but he should have known what he was getting into by delving into these ruins. Still, she handled the book with care as she packed it away in her bag to turn her focus on the blade lying beside the skeleton.

Standing, she held it and grimaced—two-handed weapon, eh. She could hardly manage to hold one of these on a good day, she was too small to be able to use one to its full potential.

Greysi inspected the red glow on the blade, then the wall curiously. They were obviously linked to one another. Experimenting, she raised the sword and swung down. She grunted at the heaviness but she was rewarded with a slash of red escaping the blade. It hit the wall but nothing happened…

Maybe if she swung diagonally…

She beamed happily when the piece of the door moved.

Greysi eyed structure—get them both to the centre?

So she spent the five minutes swinging the heavy sword to move the stone so both the red glowing lines met at the highest point, then slashed the final horizontal line. The floor rumbled and the doors parted.

She dropped the sword and huffed, _sweet Night Mother that was exhausting_ ; there was no way in hell she was carrying that sword with her out of the catacomb… but she did take a moment to drink some water before pressing forward.

The swinging axes… were an annoyance but with WULD NAH KEST, they were a breeze, pun intended.

Once she flipped the lever to turn them off, the gate opens into a large room filled with at least waist-high water and—a word wall!

Greysi grinned.

She moved along the stone, avoiding the water when a Dragon Priest screeched, emerging from the water.

 _Gods!_ She should have expected this!

Whipping out her crossbow, loading a bolt, she fired. She hit but then he moved too fast for her to keep up with using her crossbow. She dropped it and fire licked along her fingers.

She sent a bolt of fire at him and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid his lightning. She ducked behind the chest, eyes wide as sparks in the ground to her left.

She cast Greater Ward and fired Frostbite at him this time. The Priest snarled and backed away but Greysi continued to cast, watching the undead scramble to get away from her magic. She leapt over the chest, into the water and waddled through to approach him, dragon bone dagger drawn.

Greysi climbed from the water just in time to narrowly miss getting electrocuted. She pounced when he stopped firing, thrusting her dagger into the soft part of his armour just below his collarbone.

They both went down and the Priest screeched once more before disintegrating, leaving only his mask behind.

 _Yes! Another one_ , she smiled happily as she picked it up. She groaned at the protest her knees made but ignored it in favour of approaching the chanting Word Wall.

“Pah Werid morokei Miraak. Zok suleykaar do pah. Sonaak wen mul bolaav naal fahluaan do jul. Curious." She hummed. “ MUL!”

Her torso became encased with an ethereal golden blue glow reminiscent of a dragon.

A soft noise escaped her in awe. She inspected it with unending curiosity, why hadn’t she learnt of this before? Was this possibly… another man-made shout? _That_ filled her with excitement because dragons didn’t have a need for a Thu’um that would reveal their might to another when they already had the body of a mighty beast.

Grinned happily to herself, Greysi collected her crossbow that she’d dropped and headed toward the exit…

…Wait, gardener of mankind? She froze….

 _Oh no, oh no no no no—Hermaeus Mora?!_ Oooooh fuck. Why the hell did Miraak have to anything to do with Hermaeus Mora?!

She quiet danced on her feet to attempt to soothe her nerves at the thought of seeing that mass of tentacles ever again…

The last time she’d come face to face she’d hissed at him and declared to loyalty to her Dread Father and Time Father only.

…While she’d met other Daedra over the years—she seemed to attract them like flies—Hermaeus Mora was one of the worst to be acknowledged by because he _always_ wants something.

What a moron Miraak must be!

She climbed the stairs and stopped dead— _that better not be what I think it is._

There was a sickening echo the closer she got to it and her heart sank.

…It totally was.

It was a Black Book.

She slowly approached it.

…was she really going to… to do this?

Curling her trembling fingers, Greysi quickly ripped a long strip of fabric from a fraying banner and wrapped it around the book so it couldn’t accidently open. She wanted to get out of this catacomb and had to take the book with her because who knows who could find it if she left it.

She’s definitely calling Durnehviir…

…she could really do with a hug right about now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used catacombs hunting/diving instead of dungeon diving because I don’t think they’d call it that—at least personally and for Greysi that is.
> 
> Translations chapter 2:
> 
> Laas Yah Nir: Aura Whisper Shout
> 
> TIID KLO UL: Slow Time Shout
> 
> Zeymah – brothers
> 
> WULD NAH KEST – Whirlwind Sprint Shout
> 
> Pah Werid morokei Miraak. Zok suleykaar do pah. Sonaak wen mul bolaav naal fahluaan do jul – All praise glorious Miraak. Most power(ful) servant of all. Dragon Priests, whose strength (was) granted by (the) gardener of mankind.
> 
> Mul – Strong
> 
> /////
> 
> Most of the designs for the dragons aren't 100%. Durnehviir needs the most work, I got his horns wrong ;^;  
> I used those squad meme templates for them, I just couldn't help it. Miraak, Alduin, and Greysi is practically spot on.


	3. Wandering Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, hover for translations or read them at the bottom!
> 
> A shorter chapter this time but it's mostly a transition piece but Miraak's first appearance is here... well, sort of ;)

_**Chapter 3:** Wandering Minds... _

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.

.

Returning the journal to Crescius took only a moment of her time and then Greysi returned to the inn, too exhausted to do much else.

She locked the door and buried the Black Book at the bottom of the chest until a time she knew what to do with it. She sat her backside on the floor and rest her arms on the chest with a heavy sigh.

Greysi stared at her trembling fingers because why, out of every Daedra Prince, did it have to be _Hermaeus Mora_.

The lingering extroverted behaviour from her childhood wanted her to throttle Miraak when they finally met for making a deal with Hermaeus Mora, wanting to demand to know why he’d thought it a good idea to do so because it wasn’t…

She groaned softly, pulling her guard down to rub her face, _Beloved Dread Father give me the strength to make it through this._

She needed a distraction and fast.

…Greysi remembered Glover’s other request about finding that Breton, Esmond…

Yeah, she had a brief idea of where he might have gone _and_ it was a good way to get familiar with the island.

Her stomach rumbled…

After some food first, however.

.

.

.

While she hadn’t planned to do anything other than find Esmond, she ended up taking a slight detour to clear out a mine of—what were raiders called here? Doesn’t matter, they were all dead once she’d cleared the area.

She also found an abundant amount of Ebony arrows, which she stored in a quiver she looted from one for the corpses since they wouldn’t exactly be needing it any more. The only bow Greysi found suitable was an orcish bow and it would do for now.

When she finally discovered Esmond, he was dead and had been for a while. His rotting corpse left lying on the ice by the Rieklings that inhabited the ice cavern.

_Huh, so that’s what they look like._

But not wanting to disturb the Rieklings, Greysi dipped before any of them could notice her there.

She returned the formula to Glover and debated turning in for a nap but she was just to jittery—she needed to be moving, stopping now would only let her thoughts linger on questions she had no way of answering at the moment.

Move, move, _move_.

Greysi practically lived on the road, especially once she’d discovered she was Dragonborn. But even before that, her work with the Brotherhood had her coming and going, she _liked_ being on the move because it kept her mind busy. Even once her work within the Brotherhood was forced to take a slight backseat when being Dragonborn was thrust upon her, her fellow children of the Dread Father had understood her important fate…

… _Astrid_ had understood…

…At least, she’d believed Astrid had understood and yet upon her time of death, the woman that had been like a mother to her—the one to find her—the one to give her the chance to live her life, had confessed how she feared the Night Mother and felt threatened by how Greysi had been chosen to be her Listener…

Even now—almost seven months later—Greysi still felt that betrayal, that burning wildfire anger at Astrid and how in her idiocy, she sold them out to the Penitus Oculatus…

Greysi doesn’t think she’ll ever forgive the woman and that was completely find; she didn’t _want_ to forgive her, she was _allowed_ to be bitter.

Sighing heavily, Greysi dropped her crossbow off in her room before setting out to explore some of the South east area of the island.

The brief thought she was going to push herself until she couldn’t possibly go any further hit her, but at this rate she’d be so exhausted her brain wouldn’t be able to conjure up any dreams…

…yeah that sounds like a good idea.

She could practically hear Paarthurnax scolding her for her recklessness, could imagine the worried furrowed brows of her brothers. She knew she shouldn’t be pushing herself and yet, she just didn’t care at this point.

It was an unhealth coping mechanism. One she’d had for a long time and it was hard to break out of a destructive cycle like that.

.

.

She ends up helping Captain Veleth take care of Ash Spawn and—aha! More work! She curiously agreed to help Veleth locate where exactly the Ash Spawn were coming from…

_Raven Rock Stronghold,_

_My call for the unconditional surrender of your forces and an immediate cessations of all hostilities has been ignored numerous times. I therefore have no choice but to assume your purpose on Solstheim is hostile, and to treat Raven Rock Stronghold as an enemy if the Empire. I warn you, any attempt to breach Fort Frostmoth will be met with an equal level of aggression. I will do everything in my power to wipe you and your forces off the face of Tamriel. There will be no further communications between us._

_General Falx Carius_

_Garrision Commander, Fort Frostmoth_

Huh… not what she was expecting and she handed the letter over.

"This is strange. The note says it's from General Falx Carius, but that's impossible."

“Impossible?” Greysi frowned. “Why?”

“Well, Carius was the Imperial garrison commander at Fort Frostmoth, but he died over 200 years ago when Red Mountain levelled the place. There's no way he could still be alive.”

A imposter? A vengeful spirt?

“What do you want me to do?”

“If General Carius is still alive, there must be something keeping him that way. Do you think you could head out to Fort Frostmoth and check it out? I'm going to head back to Raven Rock and prepare the men for further assaults.”

“Point me in the direction?” She asked and with a rough location set off to find Fort Frostmoth and whoever this Carius is.

.

.

With an arrow to the heart—or where a heart would have been—the Ash Spawn were relatively easy to pick off as she snuck around the outside of the Fort.

Greysi took a moment before entering the building to admire the ash-filled orange sunset. It was strangely beautiful, while nothing could beat a clear night sky in Skyrim, it was definitely a sight she was glad to have to chance to see.

The fort had mostly stood the test of time, the entry area was full of ash, however, and Ash Spawn crawled their way out of it.

The lower floor looked untouched—as if everything had been frozen in time—arrows still lodged in the target, a table that had been seat, food long since rotten away but plates and burnt out lantern sat there innocently…

There were some freaky spiders, some red and orange ones and a few white ones. She’d never seen them before and they were just… ew. She definitely wasn’t a fan of frostbite spiders and these seemed just as disgusting.

In the last room, one filled with coffins, was an old journal. It practically fell apart in her hands but she managed to learn Carius had been reanimated using something called a heartstone. It reminded her off the Forsworn Briarheart.

So she’d been sort of right—but he wasn’t a spirt.

Nabbing a key from the bag sat on the floor, she headed back to the door she hadn’t been able to open.

Greysi spotted him as soon as she peeked into the room at the top of the stairs…

She drew her bow, aimed and fired.

He roared in anger, drew his hammer and Greysi dropped her bow to unsheathed her Nordic dagger and darted away from Carius before he could swing the hammer at her. She was surprised with the almost inhuman strength he possessed, swinging the hammer as if it was simply an axe.

“TIID KLO UL.”

She darted behind him and when time caught up, she thrust the blade into his back. The hammer fell to the ground, he yelled and his corpse hit the ground, the dagger sliding from his back without her having to pull it out.

Greysi sighed and picked her bow up, readying herself to return. She blinked rapidly as her exhaustion finally began to hit her as the adrenaline wore off. She staggered her way down the stairs and began to make the slow journey back to Raven Rock.

.

.

“I had my suspicions that he was undead. How else could he have survived for over two hundred years? It’s a shame. There are quite a few tales of General Carius’s exploits, including the founding of Raven Rock.”

“Hopefully this solves the Ash Spawn problem then.”

“I hope so too.” Veleth nodded and reached for the drawer, pulling out a purse of coins. “Councillor Morvayn told me to give this to you if you made it back in one piece… and you got rid of General Carius.”

Greysi politely refused, knowing that Raven Rock wasn’t the richest settlement—they could use every coin they had and it wasn’t like Greysi needed anymore then she already had.

Her response surprised Valath but he accepted her refusal.

.

.

.

The bed was calling her name when she finally returned to the inn. She didn’t even have the chance to remove her boots, let alone her mask, before she was out. Her head hitting the pillow and her exhaustion swallowed her whole.

.

.

She felt someone’s eyes on her.

“ _Curious. It takes a strong will to be able to resist me_.” A voice came from all directions and Greysi sat up, sharp eyes searching for the body the voice belonged too. She glared into the empty void.

“ _Mal nuz sahrot nii koraav._ ” There was mocking amusement in his voice.

(It hit Greysi that he hadn’t acknowledged what she was—could he tell?)

She said nothing, just eyed the surrounding darkness with contempt. Did he not think her worthy of seeing his person?

“ _No words?_ ” There was a twang of curiosity. She glared. “ _Zok vonun, zok faas fod nust nis koraav_.”

She huffed, oddly amusedly but…

“ _A strange one indeed._ _Hmm, my curiosity has been sated. You will await my arrival with the rest of Tamreil…_ _Mal norok gein._ "

.

.

Greysi jerked awake, almost rolling from the bed with a cold sweat across her forehead.

She sucked in a breath and quickly pulled her faceguard down to make it easier.

Sweet Night Mother, she had been expecting that dream again not… not…

Dear Gods, she’d just spoken to Miraak and he hadn’t realised who she was. She didn’t know if she wanted to cry in frustration or happiness…

What would his reaction be once he found out?

Would he… would he welcome her in their shared power or would he scorn her? Would he try to kill her as the only possible rival there was to his power?

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her heavy lids.

Sitting up, she cracked her spine and stood. No use in trying to return to sleep now.

Maybe she should head over to his temple…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> TIID KLO UL – Slow Time shout
> 
> Mal nuz sahrot nii koraav – Tiny but mighty it seems.
> 
> Zok vonun, zok faas fod nust nis koraav – Most unusual, most fear what they could not see 
> 
> Mal norok gein – Little fierce one
> 
> Complete headhsots of all four of them :)  
> 


	4. Face to Face, Soul to Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Translations are at the bottom, or you can hover over with your mouse.

_**Chapter 4:** Face to Face, Soul to Soul... _

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.

.

The dilapidated temple was built into the mountainside and even now, Greysi could admit it was beautiful—she wouldn’t help but wonder what it would have looked like in its full glory.

Still, she climbed up the snowy-ash mountainside to find some sort of entrance she could use and as she grew closer and closer, she could head the sounds of picks against stone. She paused, another strange shrine?

And as she grew closer spotted something peeking through the snow…

It was a skeleton and not just any—it was a dragon’s.

It stopped her short in shock but…she wasn’t all that surprised despite the initial feeling. She should have expected truthfully. Paarthurnax and Alduin had told her of Miraak’s actions upon learning just what he was; slaying all the dragons on Solstheim to absorb their souls…

She climbed the staircase towards the main structure being rebuilt by the possessed people, and then down the stairs to the centre structure.

“Oslaf, please!”

Greysi stopped, blinked and searched for the woman’s voice.

“You must listen to me!” she begged.

Was she not affected?

Curiously, Greysi approached the blonde-haired woman donned in Nordic armour and when the woman noticed the dragonborn, turned to her sharply.

“You there. What brings you to this place? Why are you here?”

“Who are you?” Greysi responded with, wanting to avoid giving her name out unnecessarily.

“I am Frea of the Skaal.” Greysi grinned behind her mask, so this was a Skaal! “I am here to either save my people or avenge them.”

“Do you know what’s causing this?”

She frowned. “I am unsure. Something has taken control of most of the people of Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves, and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself. My father Storn, the shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible."

Greysi perked up at his name, so he hadn’t been completely erased from history! Maybe the Skaal could tell her more of Miraak from their view.

“I travelled to Solstheim to investigate what is happening.” Greysi offered—it wasn’t really a lie, not that she’d feel bad either way.

"Then you and I both have reason to see what lies beneath us. Let us go. There is nothing more I can do here. The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond my help for now.” She nodded. “We need to find a way into the temple below."

Frea took the lead, taking Greysi to the entrance of the temple.

Familiar architecture was what Greysi saw, but unlike the tombs in Skyrim, this Temple had clearly been used daily by the Dragon Cult, the table and chairs, the overall appearance of the temple looking to have been lived in.

Greysi quickly found an easy camaraderie forming between Frea and herself as they worked their way through the Draugr infested Temple.

.

.

“What do you know of Miraak?”

“His story is as old as Solstheim itself. He served the dragons before their fall from power, as most did. A priest in their order. But unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly. The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the dragons destroyed him for it.”

.

.

Greysi was sure a normal person would have been put off by the sight of all the human skeletons scattered around the temple but as much as she tried to deny it—a part of her found herself excited at the sight of what strength Miraak might possess.

Her dovah soul resonated inside her, warming her insides and Greysi caught herself before she purred.

… She didn’t understand _why_ exactly her soul reacts so strongly to the show of power. It hadn’t before and there were plenty of people out there…

Was it because Miraak was Dragonborn?

Was it part of her more animalist instinct?

Her dovah soul had more say in her actions and feelings than most would think, even _before_ she unlocked the power her soul possessed. She’d been quite a feral child, even when her parents had been alive.

She’d been seen as a strange child and once her parents, concerned for her, had taken Greysi to a healer to been looked but said nothing was wrong with her, and there wasn’t really; it was just her dovah soul wanting to be released. It manifested itself the only way it could…

She wonders what Miraak went through…

.

.

There was an entire dragon skeleton hanging there…

_Wow, talk about serious interior decoration…_

The chanting word wall takes her attention away from the skeleton and she approached it. Reaching out to brush her fingers along the carvings with a strange feeling at the thought Miraak might have touched this wall too, so long ago.

“ Het ont kriist Miraak wo ahtiid ok Sahvot ol qah spaan naal Deyra fah ok unslaad midun.” Greysi read aloud. “Qah, armour.”

“It is quite the shock to hear one speak the language so fluently, the language of the dragons was believed to be a dead one.” Frea complement.

At the thought of Paarthurnax Greysi smiled, but realised Frea couldn’t see it. “I had an amazing tutor to learn from.”

But they were interrupted by the awakening of Draugr.

There was even more to explore behind the locked door, which one of the Draugr had the key for.

There was what looked to have been a kitchen and storage…Greysi could admit it had an almost homely feel—but it had been a home to people at one point.

When they finally reached the final area, there were already Draugr awake and wandering…and more bones decorated the large room-slash-staircase.

Greysi used archery to take care of the Dragur and animated skeletons easily.

There was a rock trap that they had to dart out of the way for, almost getting crushed by them as they fell.

“Goodness.” Frea muttered, eyeing the rolling rocks with wariness.

Greysi had expected a Dragon Priest in all honestly but was glad for the lack of one.

However… that couldn’t be said for the Black Book.

_Another one?!_

The blood drained from her face and she toed the stone beneath her foot as she stared.

She was going to have to this time, wasn’t she?

“This book…it seems wrong, somehow. Here, yet…not. It may be what we seek, _unfortunately_.” Frea glared at it.

Greysi took a breath and picked the book up, then opened it only to barely get to read the first few words before inky black tentacles wrapped around her and pulled her in.

.

.

.

The nauseating feeling of being sucked into another plane of existence was accompanied by an abrupt stop that hurt her ankles, a grunt leaving her as she rolled into a crouch, an almost frog-like pose but—

To her surprise, a familiar baritone and echoed voice spoke: “The time comes soon when—”

She sensed not one, but two dovah souls near her and nausea was replaced by a rush of adrenaline.

Her head snapped up, taking in the familiar tall, broad man in green robes who whirled around to face her.

 _Miraak_.

“Dovahkiin.” There was a wisp of awe in his tone before he caught it and he chuckled. “Perhaps it should be mal norok _dovah_ , not mal norok _gein_.”

Greysi watched him just as he watched her.

He clasped his hands behind his back as he approached. She stood in response…

And sweet Night Mother was he was _tall_.

He _towered_ her by at least two heads.

Da-dump, da-dump.

She met the slits of his golden mask, catching only the slightest glimpse of green in the darkness.

Da-dump, da-dump.

She wants to take a step forward, wants to stand chest to chest with this man—wants to… what exactly? She has no idea, none at all. She’d never experienced something so strange before.

“You have slain a great many dragons, I sense.” He tilted his head. “Defeated Alduin, he must be oh-so pitiful now that he has been reduced to the form of the very thing he’d _mock_.”

She said nothing, not breaking the eye contact.

And _that—_

 _That_ seemed to frustrate him. “Still, you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield. MUL QAH DIIV!”

The spectral draconic armour swirled into being, crowning his head with four-pointed horns and donning his torso and arms with glowing plates of golden blue light.

Mul qah diiv was the full shout? Her wick grin was hidden behind her mask as she greedily took in the sight of the shout, her soul shivering with excitement.

“This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. And it is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people.” He took a step towards her, peering down at her and she could feel the power resonating from his spectral armour. “Soon they will finish my temple, and I can return home.”

It was Greysi’s turn to tilt her head and opened her mouth to comment when he gave her his back and strode away.

 _Rude, and I was going to converse with you_ , she was _not_ pouting.

“She will await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel.”

On his orders, the creatures closed in and before she could act, blasted her with the strange paralyzing magic. It made her head spin and vision darken as she collapsed to the floor. The last thing she saw was Miraak mounting the blue dragon’s neck and taking off.

.

.

.

She awoke back in the dark and dank temple with Frea hovering nearby.

Greysi dropped the book and let her knees give out as she sucked in a breath.

“What happened to you?” The blonde asked with concern, kneeling beside Greysi. “You read the book and then… it seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see _through_ you!”

“I’m..” Greysi swallowed and fought against the desire her throat held to say nothing—now really wasn’t the time for that. “Not really sure. I saw Miraak however.”

She frowned. “Can we reach him? Can we kill him?”

Greysi ran a hand through her hair. “Somehow, reading the book transported me to where ever it is he’s residing.”

Frea stood. “This is a dangerous thing, then. We should return to my village, and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on.”

.

.

.

Greysi was forced to buy a coat from the Skaal to protect her against the cold on her way to Searing’s Watch to find the Word Wall…

And of course, there was a dragon that had made it his home.

Greysi, much like ones back in Skyrim, tried to reason—tell him of what has come to pass, however, he doesn’t believe her and she’s forced to kill him to protect herself.

As he lay dying, Greysi knelt before him, resting her hand against his snout. “May your soul finally be at rest when I too pass from the mortal plane.” She spoke softly, having recited this blessing to every dovah she had slain since she learnt of what she was.

The glowing rush of the dragon soul flickered and swirled around her, skin tingling and head rushing as it always did. Then suddenly as quickly as the feeling appeared, it ceased. She could feel the pull of the soul as it rushed passed her and—what?

She stumbled to her feet at the prickling feeling of being watched and she turned to see a translucent Miraak stood mere feet behind her.

“This dragon’s soul belongs to me.” She watched as the dragon soul twirled around him as he absorbed it. “One step closer to my return.”

He vanished and Greysi _raged_.

Shouting, destroying and expelling her anger at the steal— _HOW DARE HE!_

She snarled, damaging the structure the made up Searing’s Watch to release her anger.

.

.

It took her a long while to calm herself and then she sat down, perching her backside on some rumble.

“DUR NEH VIIR!”

A familiar glowing purple circle opened up and from within, Durnehviir formed. He rumbled, shook himself out and turned to face her.

He paused. “ Hin sil kiin pogass rahgot, dii briinah.” he commented softly.

“Zu’u grind Miraak.” She hissed. “Rok gahrot dii zii.””

Durnehviir rumbles in understanding—to steal another’s soul was blasphemy.

He shifted down, not even shivering at the cold, and sat beside Greysi. “Perhaps from the beginning?”

Greys twisted her body to face Durnehviir. “He is struck within Mora’s domain, he has taken control of the people here to rebuild the shrines, I believe to help him in his endeavour to escape.” Then upon remembering her souls reaction to Miraak… “Can I ask something about how our souls work?”

Confused, Durnehviir nodded. “Of course, briinah."

“When I think of Miraak, my soul reacts—I’m not sure how to word it. It has never reacted to anyone like that before. When I was face to face—” She cut herself off, frowning and when she glances back as Durnehviir, he’d paled. “Durnehviir?”

"Dii briinah."He takes her by the shoulder. “Explain it—this haalvut, this feeling.”

Eyes wide, Greysi did. “The show of strength that his temple displays makes my dovah excited, curious about his true strength. When I met his face to face, I wanted to step closer, wanted to…”

“Scent him?” He fills in and Greysi blinks…

…now that she thought about it…

“…Yeah.”

He stood abruptly. “I think Alduin would be the better one to explain…this.”

“Explain what?” Greysi stood, grabbing hold of his sleeve.

He looked nervous. “Normally the honour of explanation goes to the oldest and strongest in the pack and Alduin is that. I would only do you a disservice.”

Explanation? What explanation?

Before Greysi could ask any more questions, Durnehviir transformed once again and took off.

She sighed and quickly shouted: “At least have him bring my dragon armour?!”

He roared his confirmation.

Greysi groaned, looking about helplessly before deciding to head back to the Skaal village to cleanse the shrine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miraak: *wonders if showing off will get her to talk*  
> Miraak: *indirectly insults Greysi*  
> Miraak: *steals soul*  
> Greysi: ಠ ∩ ಠ  
> Miraak: …why won’t she talk to me????  
> Miraak: …but more importantly, is she impressed????
> 
> Alduin: *is in Skyrim*  
> Alduin: *feels urge to comfort Greysi*  
> Alduin: *narrows eyes* That bastard.  
> Paarthurnax & Odahviing: *confused but worried*
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Het ont kriist Miraak wo ahtiid ok Sahvot ol qah, spaan naal Deyra fah ok unslaad midun – Here once stood Miraak who wears his Faith as armour shielded by Daedra for his eternal loyalty.
> 
> Mal norok dovah – little fierce dragon
> 
> Mal norok gein – Little fierce one
> 
> MUL QAH DIIV – Dragon Aspect Shout.
> 
> Hin sil kiin pogass rahgot, dii briinah – Your souls bears much anger, my sister.
> 
> Zu’u grind Miraak – I encountered Miraak.
> 
> Rok gahrot dii zii – He stole my soul.
> 
> Briinah – sister
> 
> Dii briinah my sister
> 
> Haalvut – feeling


	5. Feral Little Dovahkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is here~
> 
> this chapter includes dissociation, I've never experienced it before so I can't write from a perspective of knowing, however, I did some research and tried to keep it seem real enough for the way Greysi acts.

** Chapter 5: Feral Little Dovahkin **

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.

.

White Ridge Barrow—it was full of more of those…freaky spiders, including ones that liked to explode. It immediately put Greysi out, but alas, she was already, probably half-way through by now and might as well go all the way at that point.

She heaved a sigh.

And…then spiders controlling those bandits—

Yeah, no. She did _not_ sign up for this.

With fire spewing from her hands at any sign of spiders, spider eggs or people, Greysi sets it on fire because _she_. _was. not. doing. this_.

She burns the cobweb hiding the path and ducks through. She can hear the chanting wall when she gets close enough and heaves another sigh of pure relief. Finally, hopefully, those spiders were completely wiped out.

Now—a Dragon Priest is all she has to fight.

…

…

..

Greysi can’t believe she’s _actually_ eager to fight a damn Priest.

It takes some back and forth, dodging and Shouts before she defeats him, and a silver mask was her reward. She safely tucked it away and returned her attention to the word wall.

“Nonvul bron dahmaan daar rot. Do fin fodiiz bormah kendov krif, ok kosil vokul nuz jun gaar niin nau ok hokoron. Gaar, unleash.” Greysi pondered on the full Thu’um, clearly, this was a third shout hidden around Solstheim.

Greysi clicked her tongue when she approached the Black Book. With only a moment’s hesitation, she opened the book and was dragged into Apocrypha.

Immediately, Greysi was glad she knew Magelight, casting it within the darkness that encased this part of the Apocrypha. She hurried along, eager to return to the real world. A few Lurkers and Seekers she had to take care off along the way but its nothing too difficult.

By the time she reaches the end, picks the Seeker of Sorcery perk thing that Hera makes one pick to be able to leave, likely for leverage to hold over you for whatever reason, Greysi was thrown back into her body.

Greysi only briefly explored what exactly was happening in the cave, but grimaced when it had something to do with the spiders and noped out of it; she really didn’t want to know.

.

.

.

She stared at the rock, curled up with her back pressed against the cave wall and with her bag as a pillow. She blinked, eyes heavy and exhausted but Greysi fought against it—she was not going to sleep. She’d had enough of those dreams and seeing that damn mask anytime soon, even in her dreams, she swears to the Gods, she gonna punch a bitch so hard that—

Greysi blinked and squinted as her vision danced, body feeling heavy yet like it was a swaying boat on water. Another blink, absently, Greysi could feel a part of her _panic_ , she knew what was happening, knew if she let it get worse, she’d wake several hours from now with missing memories and covered in some sort of blood. It had happened enough to her over the years.

But…that other animalistic part was there—just beneath her skin, ready to snatch that chance at freedom she often denied herself. She couldn’t, she _shouldn’t_. She wasn’t an animal. She wasn’t there any longer, she didn’t _need_ to be that monster for entertainment.

She was free…

…and yet, she _wants_ it. Wants the momentary freedom from reality as she lets herself succumber to her Dovah Soul.

She shouldn’t.

But often, she didn’t have a chose.

She could push it off— _maybe_ , but it always caught up in the end. It made it worse, make her loose more, made her slide down that cliff face she had spent so long climbing.

She knows her brothers would try and get her to give in—not because of what she becomes, but what it could do to her mental state if she pushed and pushed until she didn’t _have_ a choice.

They’ve each had their own experiences with seeing her regress. She didn’t like them seeing her like that, so when she felt it coming on, she’d make an excuse and vanish for a few days to regress, recover and then go home.

Greysi thinks she has them fooled, but she could never know with her brothers. Not truly. They could simply be granting her desire for space during these moments or, they really didn’t know…

But she should have been expecting another one. Stress had always been a big factor and this…adventure? Quest? Journey? Whatever it was, had been putting her through the loop, causing more stress and nerves than normal. She’d gotten good at burying them, good as detaching herself from her emotions to a point it could keep the episodes at bay, but this was pushing—

—coughing.

She perked up, ears tuning into the sound and the distant crackling of fire.

_Oh?_

Greysi pushed herself up, dragging her bag with her as she crawled along the rocky earth closer to the sound. The edge of her sight might have become hazy, might have tinted her sight grey, but it didn’t stop her from locating the noise.

Bandits.

She had chosen this high point, an indent in the cliff face, because it was out of the way, dark, and would not attract any attention. The bandits nearby would solve the problem of any other people approaching and if by chance they beat the bandits, she’d have woken before they could reach her.

But now—those bandits looked _appetizing_. Her flexed her fingers, dark nails scratching at the rocks. Her gums ached and she dug her nails into her palms to distract from the desire _to rip their throats out with her teeth_.

She crawled and slid down the rock outcrop to get closer to the patrolling bandit, one hand drew a dragger, the other flexed and readied herself to pounce on her chosen prey.

She waited.

And waited.

And—she launched forward, one hand covering the woman’s mouth, the other sliced her throat. Blood went spewing and the bandit gagged and gurgled but Greysi muffled the sounds, dragging her behind the outcrop where she dropped the dying woman.

She watched as the bandit tried and failed to stem the bleeding as Greysi had sliced to deep and unless anyone sympathetic knew a healing spell—well, nothing could be done.

Brown eyes glazed over, and the woman went limp.

Greysi licked her lips and listened for the other two, they went on sleeping, undisturbed by what had just happened. She crawled into the camp, took only a moment to watch the crackling fire and turned her sights onto the bandit facing towards her—the other had his back facing the fire.

She pulled her dagger out again and thrust it into his gut, the man cried out but all she did was slice deep, then rip out all in time to roll away, pulling gut out as she did and missing the sword of the third bandit. Greysi grinned wicked, the fire illuminating the facial contort as she ducked and dodged each swing of the sword.

“You crazy bitch! I’ll make you pay!”

Greysi giggled and after dodging a final swing, threw herself at him. They hit the ground and they tussled. She stabbed twice rapidly, he thrashed and fought and Greysi grew annoyed quickly at her prey’s fighting. She sliced his throat and shoved ash into his face, his mouth, and his throat all while he tried to stop the bleeding.

He eventually went still and Greysi rolled off, crouching beside the dead body. She reached up, spawling her hand across her face, middle and ring finger curling at the ridge of her nose, nails digging in just the slightest as she wiped the blood onto her face.

A distant ash hooper chirped. The fire crackled on and—Greysi giggled.

Then she stilled again, hidden eyes peeking through fingers widened as her Dovah cooed.

She twisted her head to turned to see him and dragged her hand across her face, letting her nails scratch. While her crazed eyes were hidden by her hood, her lower face was illuminated by the fire, the wicked grin across her face the only sight for Miraak.

They stared at one another for a few long moments and Greysi tilted her head with an inquisitive rumble.

She wondered if he was proud of her kills, was satisfied with the slaughter. Did he like it? Was it enough?

(Enough for what?)

He said nothing and the grin dropped into a scowl. He didn’t.

Writing him off now that she knew he was not impressed by her kills, Greysi stalked back into the camp, going for the treasure she’d won by triumphant. She opened it and grunted in displeasure, just some swords and other useless trinkets. She didn’t want to lug that around with her.

She let the chest close in dissatisfaction and turned her attention to the small chest. This one held gems and geodes. One of which she liked too much to want to sell, so shoved it into a more secure pocket in her bag.

She approached the fire, where a pot of stew was hanging. She grabbed the bowl, aware of the other dragon’s eyes watching her every moment and plucked at the meat and veg from the broth, chewing them all first before drinking it down.

He approached, stilling several feet from her, but when he took another closer—she hissed, snapping her teeth in his direction.

_Don’t get any closer._

He stilled and backed away. Satisfied with the distance, she returned to the broth but watched him from the corner of her eye.

She watched him look over the mess of bodies she’d made.

…was he? Was he…proud? Did he find her…worthy?

(Worthy of what?)

She made another inquisitive sound—a chirp this time.

His head snapped back round to her.

A rumble—a deep sound and she set the bowl down to approach, want…wanting _more_ of that sound.

She licked her lips clean of the broth and tilted her chin up to meet the slits in his mask, the angle sending her hood sliding off her head.

The urge to bear her neck is strong but bearing one's neck is a sign of submission and submission was not something Greysi would be doing. Ever. Never. Not again. She’d fight until the death to prove that.

“Curious.”

Greysi tilted her head.

“…You…have…” She wasn’t sure what she has, but he looked over her kills before returning to her. The mask bugged her, she couldn’t read him, couldn’t understand what he was feeling with it on. How was she to judge if he liked her kills with it on?

She made another curious, questioning sound. _What? What do you want to know?_

“You…are a very strange woman.”

Greysi grinned but—she didn’t know what he meant? She tilted her head, brows furrowing to signal her confusion.

“…” he stared, she stared, “…hmm. Curious, I wonder what caused your dissociation.”

She blinked, _dis-so-ci-ation?_

Seeing he wasn’t going to comment on her kills and her interest dwindled since he wasn’t making any more of those sounds, Greysi’s attention left him, instead, she turned to the small wooden shelter the Bandits had built to protect them from the ash.

Good, good, clever idea.

She dragged her bag over, put it against the slanted wall and perched her backside on the sleeping bag.

The grey hazy worsened and her body felt sluggish now adrenaline had worn off.

_Sleep. Sleep would be best._

She curled up on top of the bag, arm tucked under her head as a pillow and let the wave of exhaustion take her.

.

.

.

He watched as she curled up in the shelter. He was only slightly bit miffed at being written off so easily but—he was more fascinated at what he had just witnessed. He had heard and read about dissociation, but never before had he seen it with his own two eyes.

There was so much he wanted to ask her.

He could clearly see she responded to their more animalistic sounds better then verbal words, the defence when he’d gotten too close, baring her teeth, bright eyes seemingly glowing were sharp and she was ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

The glaze in her eyes when he’d first seen her had been enough to clue him in that something was wrong.

She—Miraak was hit with a burst of frustration and annoyance, he _needs_ to know her name like it’s a piece of him missing and he doesn’t know why—was clearly a skilled fighter, her outfit let him know she fought from the shadows more often and he thought that cowardly. You should face your opponent head-on after all, at least give them a chance.

(It was a part of him born from his generation, Nords were much the same—seems they hadn’t lost _that_ during the years.)

But seeing the carnage she’d caused to the bandits—clearly, he’s first thoughts had been wrong.

She could fight head-on, would or had too—since clearly, her dissociated self was savage at what she did. That skill had to come from somewhere…

Knowing she was asleep, Miraak crouched before her. A gloved hand reached out, brushing some hair out of the laat dovahkiin’s face so he could clearly see her face. She wasn’t what he had expected—Miraak expected a man, likely a Nord, to be the last.

But from the get-go—the short stature and feminine curve of their figure had stated otherwise.

A Breton—with perhaps some Nord in there too—that slight point of her ears, not as defined as elves but there, darker brown hair common in those of Breton heritage but pale eyes most noticeable in Nords. An unfortunate short stature as most of Breton descendance.

…although it could have been an inherited trait, starvation as a child could also be a key component in ones lack of height—something to consider at least, he’d seen plenty who suffered from that before his imprisonment.

…An old and healed scar on the left side of her jaw that left a slight indent on her face…

…Black paint surrounded her eyes, likely to help camouflage…

…On her upper left arm was an old and healed burn, perhaps from a surprise magical attack.

…black nails—like his own had become after his Dovah soul had been release—that were a good length to scratch but not get in the way…

He wondered if she cared about her appearance, woman were often vein even the slightest bit about something on their person, right? Her nose? Her breast size? Maybe some old and ugly scars beneath her clothes?

Miraak frowned, absently sliding his tongue cover his top row of teeth at the way his thoughts had turned. He shook his head and stood, dispersing his form, _what a strange little feral dovahkin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nonvul bron dahmaan daar rot. Do fin fodiiz bormah kendov krif, ok kosil vokul nuz jun gaar niin nau ok hokoron -- Noble Nord, remember these words. Of the Hoar-Father: (a) warrior fights his inner evils, but (a) king unleashes them on his enemies


	6. A Civil Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no hover translations this time, it's late and I've got a killer headache so i just wanna get this posted and go to bed. Sorry.
> 
> Next chapter: Greysi delves into Dwarven Ruins, has another Soul stole (godsdamnit Miraak) and Alduin arrives.

**Chapter 6: A Civil Conversation**

.

.

.

It was the feeling of dry blood on her face that Greysi woke too.

 _Damnit, should have washed up before sleeping last night_ —

—Greysi paused, wait…

A flair of panic bursts to life as her bleary eyes snap open to see the embers of a fire still softly burning, the smell of fresh dead bodies, and Greysi felt the blood leave her face.

Greysi sat up, eyes scanning the mess around her in horror—oh, shit.

Scrambling to her feet, Greysi snatched up her bag and fled, never once looking back at the mess she had caused.

.

.

.

Greysi dragged herself back to Raven Rock, numb to everything in that moment.

Despite how much she hated herself for allowing herself to regress, her body felt lighter, mind clearer. Like a weight had been lifted. Sometimes, Greysi still waits for flashes of those missing memories to return. She knows that they will not, they never do, but a part of her still waits and wait for the ultimate moment they all come rushing back to her.

Exhaling heavily, Greysi messages her brow and rolls her shoulders.

Since she was going to Raven Rock, she might as well cleanse the Earth Stone, right? At least this time she is prepared for the Lurker to come crawling out of the water to attack.

She'll snipe at it from a higher advantage point.

So, teeth bared behind her facemask, Greysi does just that. Only mildly annoyed by the sudden rush of terrified but now free Dunmer who run away from the Lurker who comes bursting out of the liquid surrounding the Earth Stone.

It takes far too many arrows for her liking before it goes down and with the additional help from a sword for hire Dunmer by the name of Teldryn Sero. He seemed friendly enough and that was coming from her—an introverted and emotionally detached assassin.

Yeah, she has her faults.

Either way, she ends up having dinner with him as thanks. Greysi supposed she could have warned the guards and gotten them to help. But Greysi was too used to working solo that the idea generally never occurred to her to _ask_ for assistance. She wants to smack herself for letting the idea slide past her undetected; assistance could always be vulnerable in certain situations.

(She had gotten along well with Serana, extremely well—they had bonded during their journey. A familiarity—a camaraderie sisterhood. Serana was someone Greysi truly trusted and she trusted _few_.

Perhaps they had first bonded on their traumatic childhoods, Greysi could recall being so comfortable around Serana that for the first time, she had felt safe enough—trusted enough—to share what had happened to her outside those of the Brotherhood, who she'd known since she had been recruited.

The only others that knew were her dovah zeymah, they were her brothers perhaps not by blood but by _soul_. A kinship was there that Greysi couldn't really find in non-dovah, something she'd always struggled with.

All her behaviours during her childhood had made so much more sense when she learnt she was dovahkiin—when Paarthurnax had taken those moments to teach her. The first zeymah she had made; he had been the first to teach her the way of the dovah—why she acted certain ways, why she felt the need to hoard pretty gems and bare her teeth at people she disliked or tried to threatened.

It was like something clicked in her when he explained.

Greysi fondly recalls the chuckle Paarthurnax had given when she'd perched her butt down like a curious and eager child and questioned him for what had been _hours_. In the end, he had sent her away for rest and that he would be here if she had any more questions.

She made that five thousand step journey more times then she could count to seek his counsel.

Now he had chosen to make her home his, along with her other zeymah and she had never been happier. She enjoyed curling up in their presences, loved to cuddle and nap and nest with them. She was allowed to embrace her dovah soul more freely now; she didn't have to suppress the urges.)

Teldryn had offered his service and she awkwardly declined, stating she worked best solo. She tried to keep it light and not condescending—she was out of practice with socializing really. She was quiet by nature, so making random conversation to pass the time never felt right to her.

Eventually, she retired to her rented room and sorted through her stuff, packing the Black Book with the rest. Greysi pulled out _The Winds of Change_ , however, knowing this was the only other one she'd yet to enter.

She took a breath, making sure her doors locked and opened the book. She stiffens as she's hit with the falling sensation once more and she barely stops her stumbles as she finds herself upright on her feet having previously been sitting.

Exhaling, Greysi scans her surroundings. A large open room. Desks filled with non and both ruined books, soul gems and scrolls. There is a pool of liquid which she'd fifty percent sure a Lurker might come crawling out off when she gets to close.

Thankfully, no Seekers seemed to be inhabiting this area.

Greysi paused, tilting her head as she felt it—a Dovah soul; Miraak.

Immediately her eyes returned to scanning the area, from what looks like an above walkway, there's movement. Tensing, Greysi takes a step to head in that direction when—

" **Back again so soon?"** Greysi goes ridged at the voice, the movement in the distance does too, **"By the way you strut through here, hmm… one would think you…** _ **disliked**_ **Apocrypha."**

She turns her eyes to the large mass and glared at Hermaeus Mora.

" **The Oghma Infinium was only the beginning, you know. You claim to worship Sithis, yet here you are in my domain,"** there was mockery in his voice and Greysi growled— _how far he_.

"I told you once," Greysi bites out, "My allegiance is to the Dread Father. You'll never have it."

" **But here you are, daring to step foot within my realm."**

If Hermaeus Mora had a face, he'd no doubt being looking smug—the damn bastard.

"Don't take me for a fool," She snipped, "I'm only here because of Miraak. The only reason I came to Solstheim in the first place is because of him."

" **Like calls to like, say they say. Your soul calls for his, no doubt. As you the Last and he the Frist, you would seek, hmm…companionship, perhaps? As the only two of your…unique kind. What do your dragons think of this? What does the** _ **World Eater**_ **think? That you desired to learn about the one that brought havoc to his rein so long ago?"**

"I'd say you don't know Alduin very well," she snickered—but despite that, Greysi knew a part of Alduin despised her going to confront Miraak. However, it was his _worry_ for her, for her _wellbeing and safety_ that had prompted that violent reaction.

" **From a monster who devoured souls without an ounce of mercy to a simple monster stuck in a form he considered below him. How pathetic he must be. To be beaten by a tiny mortal."**

A growl escaped her, how does he insult her zeymah, "I'd say to shut your trap but you don't exactly have one. So how about you go piss off? Horvutah do liiv."

His main eye narrowed, **"You would do best to hold your tongue, mortal. If I was not so, hmm…curious about what Miraak is planning, I would not hesitate to kill you for such words."**

Greysi bared her teeth in a grin, "Then piss off."

He does and thank the Dread Father for it.

Bastard—daring to mock her Father, daring to mock Alduin.

She growled again, fingers flexing as she desperately wanted to sink her nails into something to relieve the anger.

"How reckless."

Greysi's eyes turned towards the looming man making his way into the open.

Miraak was like a mountain and compared to her own slim frame, she was sure he could break a bone or two with ease. It left her with little desire to tear into him for stealing her soul, despite the anger the flared up at the sight of him.

(…It could also be because her soul called out to his, leaving little to no desire to actually fight him, even if just for dominance.)

"I'm sure Hermaeus Mora would love to keep you," the was light humour to his voice.

Once again, Greysi bared her teeth in a grin, "I am no _toy_. No servant to any but chosen of my own free will."

A bitter resentment swelled inside—Greysi loathed others believing they could depict her choices, order her and demand servitude ( _fucking Delphine_ ) without gaining her respect. Even then, her loyalty was to the Brotherhood, her family, to herself.

Miraak tilted his head, hearing that resentment. Her grey-blues reminding him of cold water. In all the years he had been a prisoner here he had forgotten what it was like to speak to another—even one that seemed hardly fitting to the Dragonborn title.

At first glance anyway.

He knows not to underestimate her.

Knows now that something happened—perhaps the breaking of trust. Betrayal. Something that led to her chosen path.

"Yet you follow Sithis?"

"Yes," no hesitation, no fear nor hints of anything but a slice of _happiness_ in her eyes, "In my time of need, Father guided me. Gifted me with a chance for freedom."

Freedom.

Frustration well inside his chest, a bitter unfairness he knows is irrelevant and irrational in this instance. But he can't help it; for they share a key trait. Both have suffered a fate not kind.

 _Ironic, perhaps_ , he muses, that they would have events correlate distantly and likely with no similarities and yet—freedom was the key, the light at the end they both desired.

"Father chose me, perhaps because of what I would one day be, but he did either way. He took my tiny hand and showed me freedom. Showed me how to free myself, how to take vengeance on the ones that had wronged me and I slaughtered them without remorse. Defiled and stripped of a sense of self, I had nothing but _I took it back_ and he welcomed me as his Daughter."

Greysi shouldn't allow herself to spill her deepest and darkest horrors to this man; to her possible enemy.

But—Miraak finds himself…overwhelmed. The wording is not to be taken lightly, he knows.

Young—a child, likely—and that makes whatever monstrosity she had suffered worse. Not even he had lay a hand on a child before his imprisonment. He knows people like that exist—the worse kind of people if he's honest—and he won't play ignorant, never will, and his soul aches inside his chest. Croons sadly and angrily, desiring, even knowing she had avenged herself, to still find any possibly lingering humans and finish them.

It is a strange feeling, one he'll spend time pondering over later, and he crosses his arms to stop himself from curling his fingers.

"And you?" she questions, generally curious—she knew from the dragons perspective but not his, "What made you make a deal with Mora? Greed? Desire for more power? The lure of our souls desire for power to strong? I know they had an influence on my actions as a child, long before I learnt of what I was."

There was a long pause as he ponders his answer, "…Perhaps all of it. I may have been raised to worship the dragons but I never truly believed as my fellow Priests did."

"Zahkriisos and Dukaan?" She prompts.

A twitch, "Ahzidal…and Vahlok too." The second name was spoken with bitterness.

Embittered destroyer and guardian.

Greysi would definitely go hunting for those two. She's sure she might know where one is. Not too far out from Raven Rock if she recalls correctly—she'll need to go searching for the other, perhaps asking the Skaal might yield some results.

"Familiar with Dragon Priests then?"

Her lips curl before she could stop them, "I liked the challenge, collected all their masks back home. Don't suppose you mind me hunting the final two down?"

"Go to town," was the response, Greysi detected the undertone of cruel amusement; no lost love there clearly.

"So your desire for power led you to seek Mora out?" Greysi returned to the previous topic, she wasn't ready to drop it quite yet.

A grunt, "…Yes, but in the end, I did not truly know what I got myself into. A type of willful ignorance in my arrogance, I suppose."

She nodded, then: "So what exactly are you planning? Considering I've cleansed two of these stones to help the Skaal."

Behind the eye slits of his mask, Greysi catches what she thinks is a narrowing of his eyes, "Yes, you _have_."

She grins, showing teeth and warning him to watch his tone.

"I had hoped to channel the power the Stones grant me to escape but that is beyond me now," he piqued, irritated.

…Greysi could admit she rushed into this—but he was asking for it. His behaviour before was grating, conceited. She disliked people like that. Had they met under different circumstances and she'd seen his prowess first hand, then she would have respected him. Alas, that wasn't the case.

Greysi turned, giving him her side as she looked off into the distance. That couldn't be the only escape option he had, right?

Maybe…

No, she couldn't simply ask that…

He might favour her, but…

She hummed, she'd need to pray to her Father in hopes he grants her a response and advise. This wouldn't the first time she'd turned to him for it.

Again, he favoured her; chosen her as the Listener. But was this too much of an ask?

A hand reached up to her earlobe and tugged absently.

"Give me some time, I'll see if I can't locate another way," she voices.

"…And what would that be?" there's genuine curiosity, despite the bitter tone.

"Do Deathbells grow on Solstheim?" she questioned.

"What?"

"Do Deathbells grow on Solstheim?"

"No, not that I'm aware, certainly when I walked Solstheim anyway."

She curses lowly in Dovahzul, "okay…may that Dunmer Neloth? He seems like the type of growl ingredients."

"What—" Greysi blinked, turning back to Miraak, "—exactly are to talking about?"

Greysi blinked a second time, remembering Miraak was there, right, _of course_. Why wouldn't he be? She slowly pulled the Black Book out, "I'll need some if I want to pray to Father."

" _What?"_

She opened the book and vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Dovah zeymah – dragon brothers
> 
> horvutah do liiv – sack/bag of shit [catch of decay—closest I could get :')]


End file.
